Homesick
by I Give Headaches To Aspirin
Summary: Prowl always holds back his emotions. When they finally break through the barriers he thinks he has no one to help him. Wrong.
1. Weeping Willows

Inspired by Sunrise, Sunset by Purple Aussie. The scene with Wheeljack sparked this in my mind. I might make a few of these, my own view on what would have happened if Prowl _wasn't _just enjoying the sun, if something _had _been wrong.

Homesick

Prowl felt like he had been staring at the same report for hours.

He was sick of reading it and re-reading it. He just couldn't concentrate.

He growled in frustration and threw the datapad, knocking over the bin as he did. He ignored the mess and ran past it, knocking his chair over as he got up.

The halls were deserted as he tore through them. A tear slipped down his faceplates and he ran faster, he didn't want anyone to see him like this.

He finally reached the base exit and ran down to the large weeping willow tree that was a safe distance from the base.

He fell down; leaning against the tree trunk as the sobs finally forced him to the floor. He hated this war. He just wanted to go home.

But he couldn't, Praxus was gone, destroyed by the Decepticons for no reason. It had been a neutral city, it wasn't causing any problems.

Prowl curled up on his side, burying his face in the soft grass as he cried.

He had held his emotions back when Praxus had been destroyed, unwilling to let the emotions free. But the misery and despair had finally broken through.

Everyone had called his sparkless when he didn't show any emotion. If only they could see him now, screaming and crying into the grass under a tree.

Suddenly arms were around him, he was pulled to someone's chest.

The tactician didn't know who it was; he just dug his face into the mech's chest and let the tears fall.

The mech who was holding him cupped the back of his head in a comforting way and whispered soothing words into his audio.

After a while the tactician was reduced to shivering and whimpering every now and then. He looked up slightly and saw that it was Wheeljack.

"Hey Prowl." He said cheerfully, trying to cheer him up.

"Sorry." Prowl whispered, he internally winced as the misery in his voice. It made him sound weak.

"It's okay Prowl, everyone cries." Prowl sat in silence, leaning against the inventor who still had his arms wrapped around him. The sun was setting slowly as they sat there.

Prowl's sorrow still hadn't gone away, he doubted it ever would.

"Prowl, were you crying because you're...homesick?" Wheeljack asked innocently.

Another tear slipped down the SIC's faceplates, confirming what Wheeljack had said.

"E-Earth is nice but...t-the Decepticons d-destroyed Praxus. I-I can't _ever_ go h-home." Prowl said, his voice shuddering with emotion.

Wheeljack gently rocked Prowl back and forth.

"I know Prowl. But...remember you have friends here for you. All of us are here for you."

"I really doubt that as everyone calls me sparkless. Why would they need to be there?"

"We're kinda family Prowl, so little of our race is left; we're here for each other."

"I guess."

"Your job probably made this worse, Second in Command, that's one heck of a job."

"Yeah..."

"Do you want to go back to your quarters now?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Wheeljack helped him up and they walked back into the base to his quarters.

Prowl's optics were flickering as they got to his door. Wheeljack looked around and then picked the tactician up; he was met with little resistance.

He walked over to the SIC's berth and gently lay him on it. The inventor turned to leave when he felt a hand grab his wrist.

"Stay..." Prowl whispered. Wheeljack smiled and lay on the berth with Prowl. Wrapping an arm around the black and white's waist, they both fell into a peaceful recharge.

So what do you think? Should I continue? I probably will anyway. Planned:

Wheeljack + Prowl - Here

Ratchet + Prowl

Ironhide + Prowl

Red Alert + Prowl

Ratchet + Prowl

Dinobots + Prowl

Jazz + Prowl

Mirage + Prowl

Sunstreaker + Prowl

Optimus + Prowl

Which one?


	2. Smash

Jazz started awake as he heard Prowl's door open and frantic running sounded.

He got up and looked out of the door just in time to see Prowl run around the corner, looking upset.

He saw Wheeljack come out of his lab and look at him before walking down the hallway, following Prowl.

Satisfied that someone was going to take care of Prowl, Jazz walked into the tactician's office and whistled.

"He sure made a mess of this place." Jazz said to himself.

He picked up the bin and started putting the rubbish back in.

Then he cleared up the shattered pieces of the datapad which were scattered across the floor.

And finally he went around and made everything a little neater for the SIC before smiling and leaving.

Jazz shot up from his desk when he heard a crash come from Prowl's room which was right next to his.

He walked to Prowl's door and knocked. "Prowl, you okay?" There was no answer.

"Prowl, I'm coming in okay." Jazz opened the door and stared around the room.

Objects were scattered around the room, some even shattered into pieces. The owner of the room was crouched in the corner with his back to the door.

"Prowler?" Jazz walked forward and had to narrowly avoid an object aimed at his head.

"What?" The SIC whispered.

"You okay?" There was no answer.

"Prowl. Turn around." The doorwinged mech did so and Jazz stared in shock.

The mech was covered in his own energon. Obviously the objects he had shattered had cut him.

"Prowl..."

"Get out..." Prowl hissed at him, his doorwings high on his back. Jazz had never been more scared in his life than his was at this moment.

"Prowl w-"

"GET OUT!" Prowl screamed at him, picking up the nearest heavy object and launching it at him. Jazz ran out of the room and didn't stop until he was several hallways away.

"Jazz, everything okay?" It was Ratchet.

"No, Prowl's gone crazy, he just threw _something _at me. Thank Primus it missed."

"Why would he throw something at you?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"I'll go check it out." Then Ratchet was gone. Jazz stared after him before shaking his head, turning around and walking into the Rec Room, a smile plastered on his face.


	3. Bleed

"Prowl? Jazz told me there was something wrong...Are you okay?" Ratchet asked, cautiously peering inside the room. His medic instincts kicked in when he saw the pools of energon on the floor, but he forced himself to stay still until he got a non hostile answer so he knew he wouldn't have anything launched at his head.

"Fine..." A quiet voice came from behind the desk, outside of the medic's line of sight.

Ratchet approached the desk and saw Prowl slumped on the floor, leaning against the wall with his dim optics fixed tiredly on the ground. The energon was sluggishly pooling on the floor underneath his hands and he frowned at the door winged mech's blank look.

"Are you going to let me take a look at those or are you going to launch something at my head too?"

Prowl grimaced, feeling guilty at almost hurting Jazz, who had only tried to help him. He stood up, wobbling a little as he did, and put a hand on the desk to steady himself. The medic stared at the pink handprint left on the surface of the desktop, bright against the dull grey. He stepped forward and wrapped a two thick Flexseals around the white hands before leading him down the corridor to the med-bay.

As they walked, he took the chance to look at Prowl more closely whilst the doorwinger was focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. His wings hung lower than usual, not drooping down so much that his emotions would be noticeable to the other bots around the ark, but to Ratchet's trained optic, there was quite a difference.

The med-bay door slid open quietly, granting the two mechs entrance after indentifying them as Autobots and not a threat to anyone that could be inside of the medical area.

"Sit down on the berth." The black and white mechs did so, allowing his aching doorwings to relax and droop for the short amount of time the medic's back was turned before he lifted them up again.

The room was silent as Ratchet worked on Prowl's hands, removing the Flexseals he had used to try and stop the bleeding, welding the cuts shut and then applying different gels and other various medical instruments to stop the cuts from getting infected, to keep the welds together and to stop them from hurting as much.

The whole time, the SIC kept his optics fixed on the floor, or his hands, refusing to look up. The medic wanted to see Prowl's optics, to see what the mech was feeling, but the chevron effectively blocked the view, frustrating him enough to make him frown.

When he finally finished the repairs, he wrapped the hands in two thinner Flexseals, so it they wouldn't get in the way of his work, and then stood back to check that the repairs had been done correctly. He nodded to himself in approval and started to clear up. "Well, I did as much as I can. Don't go throwing anything sharp again soon alright. Not just for my benefit..." He said the last part under his intakes as Prowl got off of the berth.

He grabbed his superior's arm as he went towards the door, making the ice blue optics fix on him. "Prowl...is there something wrong?"

The optics widened and his doorwings quivered for a moment before he regained his composure and gently shook Ratchet's hold off. "I'm fine Ratchet...just...fine..."

The medic watched the mech walk out of the door, the metal structure sliding shut behind him. He returned to clearing up his tools, biting his lip.

"Idiot..."He muttered. But there was no venom in that statement.

Prowl had already suffered enough.

* * *

**Yeah, yeah I know, short chapter even after ages, but I'm in the middle of exams and stressing out of those. Even thought I'm pretty damned stressed over them, I felt I was neglecting my fics and decided to update this little one. I have the layout all set up, I just need to write the Primus damned chapter. I'm going to try and update more over the next month or so and try and finish some of the fics I started and then lost the inspiration for. Anyway, sorry it's so short after such a long time, I just hope you'll enjoy the content here despite.**


	4. Quiet

The day had been rather stressing, filled with the twins purposely doing things in front of the cameras to make his glitch scream, having to report a few Decepticons approaching the base, and having to deal with paperwork whilst watching the screens. By the end of the day, Red Alert was ready to scream.

He exited the security room, leaving someone else with the job of watching whilst he rested and got some energon. He grabbed a few cubes so that it would last him, and then after a second, grabbed two high grades.

He made his way outside, took a sip of high grade and sighed heavily in relief, the cool air making his armour feel heavenly. He shuttered his optics for a moment, relaxing, before opening them again.

His optics caught a movement to his right and he looked over to see Prowl leaning again the trunk of the giant weeping willow tree that was outside the base, staring off into the dark horizon.

The mech's doorwings were held steady, his face smooth of emotions as usual, and his optics giving away nothing. But Red Alert spent most of his time observing the mechs through his cameras, and knew though Prowl would look perfectly normal to everyone else, he was too tense, too cold, his door wings held much too high for his usual look.

The security mech bit his lip, looking at the only other mech in the base that had a glitch as bad as his, if not worse, and then grabbed the other cube of high grade out of his subspace, walking over and tapping Prowl on the shoulder.

The black and white SIC turned to look at him and then his optics flicked down to the cube being offered to him. He hesitated, and then took the cube with a grateful look to his fellow Autobot.

The two stayed there in silence till the late hours of the evening, just enjoying the peace and the quiet company that came with it.

* * *

**Yeah, yeah I know, short chapter again, but I had no idea what to write! I'm tired too and I've got ideas for my own novel (yes, I'm trying my hand at professional writing, even though it'll probably suck since I'm only 15 and have practically no experience apart from years of reading and writing fan fics. I hope you enjoy this chapter despite it's shortness, and that you come back for more when I finally get round to doing another chapter.**

**~Prowlersgirl**


	5. Helping Hand

"Please, if you would just calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down 'Optimus Prime'! This is idiotic!"

"Don' use that tone human. Do you know who you're speaking to?"

"Do you!"

"An annoying little flesh bag who don' know how to keep his mouth shut?"

"How dare you!"

"Director Galloway! What is your purpose here!"

"Your army's Second in Command. Stalker or whatever his name is."

"Prowl."

"I don't care! But he hasn't come up with a tactical plan to fight the Decepticons in weeks, it's unacceptable!"

"Your behaviour is unacceptable. As are you."

"Ironhide! That's enough!"

"Galloway, you have no idea what that mech is going through right now. And you probably nev-"

"I don't CARE what he's going through! All I care about is the safety of this country from the Deceptions. If he doesn't come up with a plan soon, we may as well give him to Sector 7!"

"Don't you DARE!"

"ENOUGH! Galloway, he's not in a suitable condition to think clearly right now."

"So what? He's a little depressed? Tell him to grow up and get over it!"

Prowl took a deep breath, leaning against the wall outside of the room the argument was going on inside. He had been called to the meeting, was just about to go in, and then this?

He shuddered as his emotions started playing havoc inside of him again and he ran to the training area, which would be empty right now due to the meeting.

"Ironhide! Outside!"

"Prime, h-"

"Not another word! Out! NOW!" The red mech exited the ark with a huff, slamming through the doors. He looked to the left and just caught sight of a pair of black and white doorwings quickly disappearing around the corner.

His spark sunk into his tank as he realized that the tactician must have heard all of what was going on in that room. His optics flamed in anger at the human's words that must have slammed into the mech like a ton of bricks in the state of mind he was in right now.

Prowl slid down the wall of the training room, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chevron on his knees. That human was right. His depression was ridiculous. But every time he thought of Praxus, his spark clenched in pain and anguish.

"Hey." His head shot up and he quickly wiped the tears away so that the weapons expert wouldn't see them.

"Was there something you needed Ironhide?"

"Don' give me that Prowl."

"What do you mean?" He struggled with himself to stop his voice from cracking, battling with his emotions and trying to re-active his emotion filter.

"You heard what was going on in there didn't you?"

"..."

"I know you're not feeling happy right now. You're upset, and that insolent human had no business saying what he did. You have a right to feel how you do, despite what Galloway says."

"My emotions are insignificant compared to the war." He mumbled.

"Bullshit. You're just as important as anyone else in this army. We're family; we're all we have left. We're one big, mismatched family of bots, and we take care of each other.

"..."

"When one of us is down, we don' order them to get up and stop crying, we help them. We help them until they can get up on their own and continue. You feel better when you're good and ready Prowl. Not because someone told you to."

"..." Ironhide turned to go.

"Ironhide?" He turned and saw Prowl getting up, the black and white mech walked up to him and hesitated.

"What?"

"Thank you..." Prowl almost squeaked as he was pulled into a red chest by two strong arms.

"Anytime kid, you're a good friend. You ever need any help, or if anyone ever hurts you, you come straight to me alright. I'll sort them out."

Prowl gave a small smile and hugged him back gently.


	6. Picture

Sunstreaker yawned and groaned loudly in boredom, throwing his feet up on the monitor and leaning back in his chair as far as it would go.

Monitor Duty.

The most boring thing that could be done on the ARK.

The endless hours of staring at the rectangle of a screen, watching bots walk by, just doing their duties as usual. It was just sooooo boring.

The only entertainment was when someone tripped and it was caught by the camera, or a bot set of one of his and Sideswipe's pranks. Now THAT was hilarious.

He looked to his left and frowned as he caught sight of Prowl.

The black and white doorwinger was typing at his own monitor, looking normal to anyone looking at him from the back, as his doorwings were held in their usual position. But the yellow front liner had an almost perfect view of his face.

A visible frown was in place, looking almost natural on the plating, like it had always been there. But that wasn't right. The emotionless expression was long gone, replaced by an expression of fear, anger, and depression.

It made HIM feel down just by looking at him.

And his paint. Oh sweet Primus.

The mech had really let himself go. The black and white plating had virtually no shine, and was covered in various scratches and smudges. The usually bright and glossy colours were now dull and depressing.

He had finally had enough.

Duty ended in two minutes. He sat there, biding him time, thinking up a devious plan.

The shift ended, and they exited the room. This was the perfect time to carry out his plan...which consisted of grabbing the tactician by the arm and dragging him down the hallway.

"Sunstreaker! What in the pit are you doing? Let go!"

"Nope, you're coming with me, you look like slag."

"Frag off!"

He raised an optic ridge at the uncharacteristic language coming from his superior. It made quite the change from his usually prim and proper way of speaking.

Prowl yanked away from him as soon as they got to the front liner's quarters, glaring at him with his icy blue optics.

"Seriously Prowl, have you looked in a mirror lately. You've let yourself go big time."

The SIC looked to his left, into the full length mirror that was in the yellow mech's quarters. He gazed sullenly at his own reflection, taking in the dull paint and various scratches.

"Just let me help, c'mon." He looked at the other mech from the corner of his optics before flicking his doorwing and sighing.

"Fine..."

He found himself surprisingly relaxing as Sunstreaker buffed out the scratches on his plating, and gently rubbed the wax and polish on. He twitched when he started on his doorwings. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. He couldn't reach that part of his frame, so the way he cleaned them, was he just let the strong spray from the shower get the mess off.

His wires lost the tense feeling and before he could stop himself, he was slowly falling into recharge. Sunstreaker snorted quietly in fond amusement as the doorwinger fell forward onto his shoulder gently.

He rolled his optics and layed him down on the berth, before going to his desk and starting to paint.

Perhaps a nice picture to see when he woke up would cheer Prowl up.


End file.
